The Job Hunt

You know when you feel like you could scream in the middle of a crowded room and no one would even blink? That’s what the graduate job hunt feels like.

As all the economists at university applied for grad schemes and the rest of my friends were flaunting their father’s abilities in finding them their dream job, I was chilling at the beach wondering what all the fuss was about. As an English student, I didn’t think there was much I could do. Turns out, there really isn’t. Except for undertake ridiculous work experience placements without expenses even being paid for and applying endlessly on journalistic jobsites for vacancies WAY above my station because let’s face it, when it comes to publishing, someone has to have a baby, or die, before anyone else even gets an interview.

So since May last year, this is what I’ve been doing. And now I’ve pretty much hit rock bottom. After maxing out my hefty overdraft while completing placements at various magazines, I am left with a pretty nice looking CV, but still no job and no money. And there is nothing more depressing than knowing you’ve spent £10,000 studying to no gain. In fact yes there is. There’s being interviewed for a job that you really don’t want, and have only applied for because you are living below the breadline, only for them to tell you that your heart’s not in making moulds of children’s hands and feet for their middle class parents. NO IT BLOODY ISN’T!!! But I’ll do it. And I’ll do it well.

Just the other day I walked into a salon on the Fulham Road where I had applied (and been rejected for) a receptionist role. The woman who had pipped me to the poorly-paid post could barely string a sentence together let alone answer my mum’s questions about facial appointments and gift cards. How on earth is this fair?! I was rejected due to “a lack of commitment to the job” and being “overqualified”. What does that even mean and how would you even know if you don’t give me the chance?!

Throw a girl a bone.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not alone in sitting behind a computer screen with a pretty sick degree, some fantastic work experience and a cup of tea, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a little frustrated.

So employers, if you’re reading this, I have worked in some of the worst conditions throughout my life, stuck with them AND did a good job, have come across the most challenging of bosses and have even worked for free with very little reward. So please, find it in your hearts to employ me. And pay me. You will not regret it. I’ll even stop talking about sex on here if it makes you feel uncomfortable. Plus, I’m a right laugh at office parties.

The cherry on top of the job hunt cake? Putting on five stone as you spend endless hours in front of Gorkana and Gumtree with slice after slice of peanut butter on toast.

Excuse me while I roll to my interview at McDonald’s…

Pah! I should be so lucky.

The Career

large (9)On looking at the picture, I’m sure you’ll have gathered that it’s not what you think.

I’m not going to sit here and spout to you about how petrified I am about being in third year and not having a job, because quite simply, I’m not that scared. I mean don’t get me wrong, the prospect of leaving university with no real plan does  indeed worry me a little… but it also fills with so much excitement. How boring it must be to know you are headed for a job as soon as you leave three years of “endless fun” only to walk straight into something you will be doing, and will most likely be sick of for the rest of your life.

For those of you who have a job lined up after university, this is NOT a criticism. I think it is wonderful if that is what makes you happy but this is just a little reminder to both myself and those of you who have absolutely no idea what you are going to do with your life that it is ABSOLUTELY FINE. In fact, I’d go as far as saying it’s ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS. Yes, that’s exactly what it is: fabulous.

You can live the dream… go travelling, experiment with narcotics, take up smoking, have sex in bins, act like you know everything when really you know nothing. Do anything that you will look back on in four years time and cringe about. That’s the fun of being an adolescent, something I will be until the age of 30 by the way, because let’s face it, that dude didn’t write the song “Forever Young” for nothing you know.

So girls; keeping wearing those miniskirts and smoking Marlboro lights and boys, keep being drunken fools and kissing far too many girls of an evening. That’s (apparently) what our early twenties were made for. Learning lessons. We have all the time in the world to be successful writers, bankers, teachers and business men; it’s our last chance to be young.

Embrace it. Live it. Look back and love it.